


Heart Shaped Face

by ghoulaesthetics (astraielle)



Series: tumblr prompts [14]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 01:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12201042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraielle/pseuds/ghoulaesthetics
Summary: “If someone had told me,” Shepard grumbled, nursing a whiskey on the rocks as she skimmed over the extensive guest list, “That wedding planning would somehow be more of an undertaking than fighting off the Reapers, I would have called bullshit.”





	Heart Shaped Face

**Author's Note:**

> my good buddy galpalaven on tumblr (shepard_vakarian on here) gave me a couple prompts, & i ended up using one of them for this fic 
> 
> Spider Flower - Elope with me, starring my Elle Shepard/Garrus Vakarian 
> 
> im so tired it didnt save like 3 times just take it

“If someone had told me,” Shepard grumbled, nursing a whiskey on the rocks as she skimmed over the extensive guest list, “That wedding planning would somehow be more of an undertaking than fighting off the Reapers, I would have called bullshit.” 

Garrus chuckled over his own drink, as though somehow he didn’t share the same sentiment towards the process. “If it’s any consolation,” he drolled, “at least we’re stuck in the same boat.” Disdainfully, he looked down at the screen of the datapad. “I don’t even think I can tell the difference in these flowers anymore.” 

“That’s because there probably isn’t one,” she snorted. “It’s not like it’s really gonna make that much of a difference anyway–they just want to see something  _nice_. Some kind of a show.” Because apparently, after the real war ended, keeping up appearances for the sake of the public (and politics) was still important–and what was to be arguably one of the biggest celebrity weddings of the year was the perfect time for that sort of thing. 

If they could just get their shit together, that was. 

“I know this is supposedly going to be good for our ‘controversial’ image,” he sighed, “But tell me, Elle, how many people on that list do we  _actually_  know?”

“Personally?” She arched an eyebrow as she scrolled down the page. “About twenty.”

“And how many are actually there…?” 

She looked physically pained. “The current total standing is–Jesus  _Christ_.”

“That bad?” He laughed, but it was the laugh of a man about to fully embrace the fact that he’d been broken by planning his own wedding. They’d been sitting at that table for nearly eight hours by now. 

“Three-eighty-seven.” It came out as a grimace. 

 “ _How?_ ” His eyes widened as much as they could. “Have we even met that many people? Not even together, just as a collective?” 

She tossed the datapad down onto the table, letting him look at it himself. “Looks like it’s mostly big-name politicians and military leaders for Citadel species and surrounding areas. A few of the more infamous mercenary leaders too–you’d think they’d want to stay far away from that many cops in a room?” 

“Everyone wants a slice of the action,” he pointed out. “Even if it’s just a few vows and pictures.”

“Garrus,” she deadpanned. “You and I both know this event is going to go on for the better part of a twenty-four hour day. Probably more.” 

“They’re going to want us to shake everyone’s hand.” He realized. 

“ _Oh._ My God.” Her eyes widened and she looked at him in a slight panic. “We won’t even be able to get to our own food at that point. This is probably the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever subjected myself to.” 

“People do love watching the great Admiral Shepard do ridiculous things,” he noted, taking a sip of his drink cooly. 

She didn’t bother entertaining the smug tone–what the hell was he even smug about anyway? As if he didn’t receive his  _own_  promotions after the war–instead drumming her French-tipped nails on the table, brow furrowed deep in contemplation. He watched her quizzically, knowing that some sort of breakthrough usually followed the actions. 

“The do sure love that, don’t they?” She asked thoughtfully. 

“It’s given you something of a reputation if nothing else,” he replied. “Okay Shepard, I’ll bite–I can see the gears turning, and you’re talking like you’re narrating a guided meditation–so, I assume you’re about to present a solution.” 

“ _Guided medi_ –” she shot him a quick look for the subtle jab. “Never mind that. And yes, I do, so I need you to shut up for like five seconds and take my hands.” As she spoke, she laid her arms out over the table, palms open in an invitation. Almost as soon as she’d done so, he met her halfway as per the simple instruction. 

“Alright, now wh–sorry, sorry,” He cut himself off, stifling a laugh at the intense glare of disappointment he received. “Shutting up. Please, go on.” 

“Okay, here is it.” Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward slightly, gripping his hands just a little harder. “Garrus Vakarian, love of my life, all around Turian bad boy, would you do me the immense honour–” She paused, meeting his eyes for added effect, and he couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not. 

“Would you do me the immense honour,” she continued, “Of saying ‘fuck this all’ to this whole process, and eloping with me?” 

Oh. Well. 

“Leave it to Shepard,” he laughed, “to find the most out-there-yet-obvious solution there is.” 

“So that’s....?”

“It’s a yes, Elle,” He grinned, leaning across the table to kiss her once. “Anything to get away from these damn flower arrangements--how can a bunch of leaves even cost so much?” 

She shrugged, seemingly much lighter now than she was before. “So, the courthouse is still open for another hour--we have time, if we run.” 

“Well, hold on.” Better to reign in the Shepard train now before she could gain too much steam. “A few stipulations to this whole  _eloping_ business.” 

“Alright Vakarian, name your price,” she grinned. 

“We book our slot for next week--invite the crew, and my family will skewer me if they aren’t at least patched in over video--then, since we obviously had the foresight to order food the day before--”

“Obviously,” she nodded, as if she hadn’t had one foot out the door seconds ago.

“--We pack up everyone, grab our takeout feast and then swing around back to our place for a party that’ll end up topping the one we had at your old place.”

“It  _was_ the stuff of legends,” she reminisced fondly. 

“And then,” he rose to meet her at her side of the table. “And then, when everyone has left and the wine is gone,” he said, dropping his voice low and placing his hands on her shoulders, leaning in close to her ear, “Then I’m gonna top  _you_.” 

“Oh my  _God_ ,” she snorted, burying her face in her hands as if it could somehow contain her laughter at his, quite frankly, appalling pun (and the fact that he took the time to  _set it up-_ -what an _unbelievable_  dork). “ _Garrus_.”

“Yes, Sweetie?” 

“Terrible,” she wheezed, “absolutely terrible.”

“But you’re into it,” he smirked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Besides, I don’t even want to bring up your idea of sexting and flirting right now--at least I  _try_  to be suave.” 

“What, you’re telling me that outdated vid references aren’t enough to get your blood boiling?” She grinned, “Hey Garrus, let me take you to--”

“Please, for my sake, don’t ever bring up ‘ _Flavourtown_ ’ in any context to me ever again,” he groaned. “ _Especially_  that one. Actually, I’m putting it on the ‘List of Words Shepard isn’t Allowed to Say’, effective immediately.” 

“Aw, you’re no fun.”

“Maybe,” he said, having moved on now to playing with a few loose strands of her hair. “So, what do you say. Next Saturday work for you?” 

Teasing aside, she couldn’t help the genuine, loving smile that split her face.

“It’s a date.” 


End file.
